


The Little Masochist

by telera



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Dark Imagery, Extremely Underage, Figging, M/M, Masturbation, Prayer, Priest AU, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Scars, Self-Flagellation, Shota, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2770220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telera/pseuds/telera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Father Lecter walks in on a very naughty Will reading a religious book at the library...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that my fics are fantasy ONLY. I do NOT condone in real life some of the things depicted in my stories.
> 
> Will is 12 in this AU.
> 
>  
> 
> **IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS KIND OF FIC DON'T READ IT. I WILL NOT PARTICIPATE IN ANY DISCUSSION ABOUT FICTION AND FANTASY. THANK YOU**

Will’s hand trembled as it approached the cover of the leather bound book. He didn’t dare to touch it, even less open it. It wasn’t a forbidden book or anything, actually, kids at the orphanage were encouraged to read and study  _The Lives of Martyrs_. The Jesuit Fathers spoke about the Catholic martyrs as a model of temperance, faith and courage, and they always included a prayer in their memory after the rosary.

 

Will closed his eyes and held his breath. He didn’t have to open the book to know what was on page 94. He could see it behind his tightly closed eyelids, [a full colour plate of Saint Sebastian by Andrea Mantegna](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c1/Andrea_Mantegna_088.jpg), a painting he had discovered by accident when he was only a child.

 

Back when he was seven years old, Will didn’t know what the picture meant. It thrilled him in a way he couldn’t explain, like an electric current in his belly. He counted the arrows that pierced the saint’s body and wondered that there was so little blood flowing from the wounds. Will didn’t understand, and he actually thought that the arrows belonged there, in the saint’s flesh. They were so beautiful.

 

Now, at almost twelve, Will still watched the plate in secret, but now the thrill pooled in between his thighs. The saint’s body was so muscular, and there were strong ropes around his wrists, but he didn’t seem at all bothered by the arrows that pierced him. He wasn’t complaining or weeping, just  _accepting_ them. Will wondered how that felt, and fervently wished to exchange places with the saint.

 

Some distant footsteps brought Will out of his reverie. He was hard, very much so, and he looked left and right to make sure that he was alone in the library. Once Father Crawford had walked in on him, and Will couldn’t explain why he had his hand in his pants. Father Crawford had spanked him raw for being  _such a dirty, wicked boy_ , and then he had lectured him about the sin of masturbation as Will knelt in the corner of the office for penitence.

 

The memory of the spanking hurt, but little Will’s desire to touch himself was bigger. He couldn’t deny or repress it, so he opened the book on page 94, felt a shiver when he saw his beloved painting and unzipped his pants. The saint was looking at the sky with a pitiful expression that made Will’s dick wet at the tip. Sometimes he imagined he was shooting the arrows and hearing the  _schuuk_  as they pierced the saint’s limbs. But more often than not, Will imagined himself tied to the column and struggling with the ropes as arrow after arrow made him groan in ecstasy.

 

Will had learnt to come quickly at his tender age, and he was pumping his little dick hard to finish as soon as possible when a strong hand squeezed his shoulder from behind.

 

‘What are you doing, my son?’

 


	2. Chapter 2

Will gasped and turned around, pulling his hand out of his pants as if it burned him. His worst fears were  _almost_  confirmed- it wasn’t Father Crawford, thank the Lord, but Father Lecter.

 

The boys whispered all sorts of stories about the European Jesuit- some said he came from France, others from the Vatican, and others from a strange country whose name Will couldn’t remember. The truth was that he was scary, stern and very strict, so Will knew he was in trouble.

 

‘I- I’m –s-sorry, Father Lecter, I—’

 

‘What are you doing, my son? Reading?’

 

‘Yes- I mean, no- that is to say- I was just- just—’ Will tried to clean his sticky hand on his pants, and the gesture didn’t go unnoticed to the priest.

 

‘I think you’ve been very naughty, my son’.

 

Will’s eyes filled with tears, and his bottom lip trembled.

 

‘I am repentant and contrite of my sin, Father’ Will sobbed remembering the litany Father Crawford had made him learn by heart ‘I will never do it again, and I’ll pray to our Lady the virgin Mary every day for forgiveness. I know dirty boys like me make the baby Jesus cry and—’

 

‘Hush’ Hannibal said sitting by his side ‘Let me see’.

 

Will froze in his chair as Father Lecter held his hand in his and smelled his fingers. The boy was too stunned to react, and didn’t know what to do as the priest closed his eyes and inhaled deep.

 

‘I absolve you of your sin’ Father Lecter muttered in a gentle voice, then kissed Will’s fingers delicately.

 

Will shuddered and pulled his hand back. It was warm and a bit wet as when he touched himself at nights, but now it seemed cleansed of the horrible sin by the priest’s generosity.

 

‘Really?’ Will breathed ‘You- You won’t tell Father Crawford?’

 

‘Of course not, dear Will’ Father Lecter smiled ‘You’re Will Graham, right?’

 

‘Yes’ the boy replied shyly.

 

‘Father Crawford has told me you come to the library often. I thought you liked to  _read’_.

 

Will blushed and lowered his head.

 

‘I do like to read, Father, it’s just that…’

 

Will trailed off. He had never shared his shameful secret with anybody. Jacking off was sinful enough, but doing it to the images of tortured and martyred saints made Will feel like a freak.

 

‘This would be Saint Sebastian’ Father Lecter said pointing at the plate ‘Drawn by the Early Italian Master Mantegna. Not my favourite painter, but an interesting take on the topic. As you know, Sebastian survived the arrows and was healed by Irene of Rome. He was later clubbed to death for criticizing emperor Diocletian. Tell me, Will. Why are you so fascinated by this painting?’

 

Will shrugged and averted his eyes from page 94.

 

‘I’m sorry’ was all he managed.

 

‘There’s nothing to be sorry about. I already absolved you of your sin, remember?’

 

Will didn’t know what to say, and after a moment of silence Father Lecter stood up and looked for some books on the shelves behind them.

 

‘Saint Sebastian has been a recurrent motif in Christian painting throughout the centuries. Here’ he said opening a big book in front of Will ‘[ **Saint Sebastian by Gerrit van Honthorst**](http://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/upload/img/honthorst-saint-sebastian-NG4503-fm.jpg). The Dutch Master was one of the first artists to portray Saint Sebastian as a half-length figure, slumped forward in a seated position. And [ **this is the famous painting by Guido Reni**](http://www.johncoulthart.com/feuilleton/wp-content/uploads/2008/02/sebastian.jpg), a personal favourite. How do they make you feel?’

 

Will’s eyes opened wide when he saw the new pictures. The first Saint Sebastian was bleeding, and one of the arrows could be seen coming out of his thigh. The second Saint Sebastian was very beautiful, and his arms were tied above his head. There were only two arrows piercing his body, and no blood on his skin.

 

‘Father Lecter’ Will muttered as a shiver went down his spine ‘Why is there so little blood in his wounds?’

 

‘Oh. That’s a very good question, Will. I’m afraid I don’t know the answer’.

 

Will looked at the foreign priest in shock.

 

‘You don’t?!’

 

‘Only the Lord is omniscient, Will’ Hannibal chuckled ‘But I imagine Reni was more focused in showing the ecstatic communion of the saint with God rather than the more… bloody details’.

 

Will nodded and chewed on his inner cheek. He felt he could trust this very wise and honest priest, and not only because he had absolved Will and kept his secret when he could have told Father Crawford. Somehow it felt as if Father Lecter _understood_. He hadn't berated Will for being a weirdo or a freak, actually, he was interested in his fascination with Saint Sebastian. And he talked about it just as if they were discussing the weather. As if it were a _normal_ thing. For the first time in his life Will felt as if someone could actually understand him, not mock and laugh at him.

 

‘Father Lecter’ he started taking a deep breath ‘I don’t know why I like the painting. But I do. The arrows, the ropes… It makes me feel like…’.

 

The boy trailed off, and Hannibal smiled to himself.

 

‘It’s quite a thrill, isn’t it?’

 

‘Yes’ Will breathed ‘I know it’s wrong but… I dream about being there. In the picture’.

 

‘As an archer? Shooting the saint yourself?’

 

Will shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and closed it again. The truth was too shameful to confess.

 

‘ _Being_  Saint Sebastian, then’ Hannibal snorted softly ‘Is that what you were thinking about before? When you were touching yourself?’

 

Will felt his cheeks burning with shame, and he averted his eyes.

 

‘I’m so sorry Father Lecter’.

 

‘Will, Will. I know you are. But that’s what Fathers are here for, to keep little boy’s urges in check. And although I respect Father Crawford’s punishment, I’ve never been one to like spankings for this kind of sin. It is my opinion that you can benefit from a... different approach’.

 

‘I don’t think I understand, Father Lecter’ Will whispered.

 

Hannibal’s lips curved in a little grin. Jack had told him about how special Will was, and what a vivid imagination he had. But when Hannibal had followed him that afternoon to the library out of curiosity, he could never have anticipated  _this_.

 

‘You will’ Hannibal said leaving his chair ‘Come see me tomorrow after mass. I’ll be waiting for you in my office’.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Will tiptoed down the corridor until he arrived at Father Lecter’s office. He was early, but he just couldn’t wait anymore. The other boys were playing ping pong or watching TV after the morning mass, but Will was too anxious to pretend he was having a good time in the common room. He hadn’t slept a wink thinking of Father Lecter’s words the day before, and the several pictures of Saint Sebastian he had shown him. Will had been tempted to touch himself that night, but somehow he managed to repress the urge. He felt as if he owed it to Father Lecter, and made the silent promise not to sin until he saw him again. The priest had said he knew of a _different approach_ to curb Will’s urges, and the boy spent the morning mass thinking about what that would mean.

 

The door of Father Lecter’s office was half-open, and Will tiptoed inside without knocking. His heart beat hard in his chest when he saw the many books and religious images on the dark mahogany shelves- Saint George and the Dragon, a weeping Virgin Mary and a bloody Christ on the cross. There was a white marble statuette next to it, of a strong man and two boys struggling with sea snakes. Will didn’t know who they were, but their naked muscled bodies and anguished faces made his little dick twitch.

 

A noise of water running made him startle, and Will tiptoed further into the priest’s office. The door of the bathroom was ajar, and Will choked a gasp when he saw Father Lecter putting on a fresh black cassock. His back was bare for a few seconds, and Will got a glimpse of the many scars that covered his skin. Some were old and yellow, but others were pink and raised, just as if Father Lecter had received a whipping that very same morning. The thought of the stern Jesuit bound to a post and struggling under the whip made Will shiver. He had a quick and vivid vision of the scene, where he was also bound to the same whipping post where the priest was crying out in pain. Will was stripped naked and restrained with live snakes, and with each arrow that pierced his body he cried in ecstatic agony like Father Lecter.

 

Will came out of his fevered reverie gasping, and he padded back into the main room of the office, bumping into one of the chairs and making a sudden noise.

 

‘Hello?’ came the rich, accented voice from the bathroom.

 

Will blushed knowing he had been caught. His sinful little dick was harder than ever, and he was trying to think of a proper excuse when Father Lecter appeared.

 

‘My son’ he said surprised ‘I wasn’t expecting you so soon’.

 

‘Sorry, Father Lecter’ the boy managed to breathe, and lowered his head to hide his shame and embarrassment.

 

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at the tent in the boy’s pants, and sauntered towards his desk slowly.

 

‘Have long have you been here, Will?’

 

‘I’m so sorry, Father Lecter’ the boy replied in a whisper ‘I was early and I didn’t want to disturb you and…’

 

‘Snooping is a sin, my son’ Hannibal chided, but there wasn’t any real resentment in his words, just an amused reminder.

 

The boy looked up at him warily, and the little smile on the priest’s face gave him the courage to speak before he could stop himself:

 

‘Why do you have so many scars on your back, Father?’

 

Hannibal snorted softly, and he gestured for little Will to move closer to the chest of drawers by the window.

 

‘Austerity and self-mastery is central to Christian life, Will. Remember what Saint Alphonsus De Ligouri taught us: “To preserve his soul and body free from stain, he must chastise his flesh, by fasting, abstinence, by disciplines and other penitential works”. Mortification of the flesh slays the disease of the soul, and by slaying this, it restores and invigorates the soul’s true life’.

 

When Father Lecter opened one of the drawers, Will felt his knees trembling. There were a lot of torture instruments nested in the smooth red velvet- a whip, a flogger with many tails and knots, several leather restraints and a band of chain links with small prongs that Will touched reverently.

 

‘What is this, Father Lecter?’ he breathed, and Hannibal chuckled fondly.

 

‘This is a cilice, my son. It’s worn around the upper thigh, and the inwardly-pointing tines create discomfort and bruising throughout the day. If you fasten it hard enough, the barbed wire will make you bleed’.

 

Will’s breathing was coming quick and ragged, and he looked at Father Lecter with a pleading pout.

 

‘Can I… Can I borrow it, Father Lecter? I… I’d like to wear it very much. And- and I won’t tell anybody, just—’

 

Hannibal watched intrigued and amused as the little boy tried to find a good explanation.

 

‘Maybe I can wear it when I go to bed? Under my pajamas, nobody will notice and--’

 

Will felt himself leaking at the idea. Surely if he wore the cilice and suffered the pain at nights his sinful little dick would offend God less? Will imagined himself atoning for his wicked night habit like this, feeling his thigh bruising and maybe even bleeding when—

 

‘No, my son’ Hannibal said closing the drawer ‘The penitence must fit the sin, and you’re too young for this kind of mortification. As your Holy Spiritual Director, I have decided you’ll benefit greatly from a different kind of approach. It will keep you focused and will help you _restrain the inordinate inclinations of self-love_ , as Saint Alphonsus said. Come’.

 

Will frowned as the flagellation instruments disappeared. He would have loved to touch and smell them all, as he was sure Father Lecter had used them thoroughly. But in the end he sighed and followed the priest to his desk. There was a small paring knife on a dish, and a yellow smelly thing that Will had never seen before.

 

‘Ginger has many interesting qualities’ Father Lecter explained ‘In Indian and Thai cuisine it adds flavor to many dishes, and it can also be added to several teas and hot beverages. Peeled and inserted into the anus it will cause an intense burning sensation for about twenty minutes or so. This practice is known as figging, and it has been used for various erotic and disciplinary reasons in the past centuries’.

 

Will watched transfixed as Father Lecter peeled the yellow root and shaped it like his little finger. The smell was spicy and tangy, and it tickled his nose as he came closer to the dish.

 

‘Figging is quite harmless’ Father Lecter said as he dipped the little ginger finger into a glass of cold water ‘But it will teach you a valuable lesson in flesh mortification. Pants down now, my son. It’s time to begin your penitent education’.

 

Will was very much scared, and embarrassed that the priest would see him naked. But his little dick was throbbing in anticipation at the idea of suffering a penitence with Father Lecter, just like in his vivid vision.

 

‘Yes, Father’ he said, and pulled his pants down obediently.

 

‘Come here now’ Hannibal said sitting on his chair and patting his lap.

 

Will bent over Hannibal’s knees in silence, finding a comfortable position and staying put. He had done this the previous week, when Father Crawford spanked him, but back then his dick hadn’t been hard at all. Now it was pulsing eagerly, and Hannibal trapped the little erection between his thighs.

 

‘Do you know he Prayer of the Penitent, Will?’ he asked parting the boy’s cheeks. He circled the tiny pink hole with his thumb, and pressed on the virgin muscle teasingly ‘Pslam 24 6:7?’

 

Will shuddered and stifled a low moan. He had wished that Father Crawford would do this to him last week. Actually, Will had spent half the spanking crying at the pain of the priest’s strong hand, and the other half praying to all the saints in heaven for his finger to slide into his hole. He didn’t dare to do it at nights for fear of going to Hell, but now Will knew he would never need to beg with Father Lecter. The priest seemed to know his most secret and unspeakably desires, and Will felt a delicious shiver as the tip of the finger slid into him.

 

‘Yes, Father’ he replied breathlessly ‘I know that prayer’.

 

‘Good’ Hannibal said pushing his finger further into to the boy’s tender anus ‘I want you to pray it during your penitence. You may begin now’.

 

Will closed his eyes and crossed himself.

 

‘ _My God’_ he started, but gave a sudden yelp as the finger disappeared and the cold ginger breached him.

 

‘ _I am sorry for my sins with all my heart’_ Hannibal continued, and Will repeated the words under his breath. The root felt fibrous and uncomfortable, but a warm tingle started to spread quickly inside him.

 

‘ _In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good’_ Will muttered _‘I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help-’_

 

‘Deep breath now’ Hannibal said, and he shoved the little ginger plug all the way inside the boy.

 

‘Oow’ Will groaned, and he started to clench his muscles around the hard plug ‘It hurts, Father Lecter’.

 

‘As it should’ the priest replied ‘Keep on praying, Will. This naughty, greedy hole needs to suffer in atonement for that sinful little dick you have. Pray’.

 

‘ _M-my G-god’_ Will stuttered, feeling as the ginger started to burn ‘ _I firmly intend, with your help- to do- do penance- to- to sin no more—_ Ah!’

 

Will started to writhe on Father Lecter’s lap, and humped his thighs urgently as a wave of lust overwhelmed him. Hannibal hadn’t warned the boy about the aphrodisiac effect of ginger, and he smiled to himself as the little penitent kicked out in earnest.

 

‘It burns’ Will sobbed ‘It burns so much!’

 

‘It’s good pain, my son’ Hannibal said holding the boy tight as the penitence continued ‘Think of Saint Sebastian, and offer your suffering to the Lord. You’ve got many sinful nights to atone for, Will’.

 

‘ _Our Savior Jesus Christ—’_ Will muttered trying to focus on the prayer, but his trapped dick was growing harder with the friction of the black cassock.

 

 _‘Our Saviour Jesus Christ suffered and died for us’_ Hannibal supplied _‘In his name, my God, have mercy’._

 

‘Mercy!’

 

Will thrashed wildly, but he couldn’t break free from Father Lecter’s grip. His tiny hole was burning and there were tears in his eyes, yet somehow his dick had never been harder. Will squeezed his eyes shut and the vivid images came unbidden to his mind- Saint Sebastian and Father Lecter, naked and bleeding from hundred of arrows and whippings. The sea snakes were writhing around their ankles, and Will was there, fucking Saint Sebastian in his wounds and licking the blood from Father Lecter’s scarred back.

 

‘You’re doing very well’ Hannibal encouraged ‘Pray with me now, my son. _Our Father, Who art in Heaven_ …’

 

Will clenched his teeth and gripped Father Lecter’s thigh, feeling how he flinched in pain. There was something metallic under his cassock, a long steely ring tightly wrapped around his thigh. Will knew with a sudden certainty that it was a cilice, and he started to punch it needing Father Lecter to suffer as much as he was.

 

‘ _Hallowed be Thy name’_ Will gasped, and continued punching Father Lecter blindly. 

 

Hannibal groaned as the many spiky nubs of the cilice dug painfully into his flesh, renewing the pain in his never fully healed wound.

 

‘Thy kingdom come’ he hissed feeling his thigh bleed, and after a breathless moment the boy tensed up and started to shake violently.

 

‘Thy will be done!’ Will cried, spurting a trickle of whitish ejaculate that seeped quickly into the priest’s cassock. Hannibal pulled the ginger plug out then, slowly, carefully, putting an end to the penitence as Will started to weep on his lap.

 

‘Hush, hush’ he cooed ‘You’ve done so well, my son’.

 

Hannibal reached for the tube of soothing cream on his desk and rubbed a dollop over the boy’s hole, which was now red and beautifully swollen.

 

‘I’m very proud of you’ Hannibal murmured ‘You took your penitence very well, but I’m afraid it must continue for the rest of the day’.

 

Before the boy could reply, Hannibal slid a little steel plug into his abused hole. Will stiffened in surprise, but with the slick cream the anal plug slipped inside him easily.

 

‘Oww’ he rasped ‘What was that, Father Lecter?’

 

Hannibal chuckled and helped him get on his feet.

 

‘Your penitence’ he replied cleaning the boy’s little limp dick with a handkerchief ‘You must wear it day and night from now on, my son. When you pray, during mass, while you sleep. It will be a constant reminder of what a greedy little hole you have, and of the need to atone for this sinful, eager dick of yours’.

 

Will rubbed one stray tear with the back of his sleeve, and watched as Father Lecter pulled his shorts and pants up. He could feel the metallic plug deeply seated inside him, and although it didn’t hurt, it kept him permanently stretched and open.

 

‘I’ll inform Father Crawford that you’ll be under my spiritual counsel and guidance from now on, Will. You’ll report to my office twice a day, so that we can discuss your urges and I can administer figging sessions as necessary. I’ll change your plug to a bigger, heavier one for when we pray the rosary, and if you keep on having these naughty erections, I’ll have to build a little cilice for your wicked dick’.

 

The thought made Will’s eyes open wide, and he blushed in embarrassment as he rearranged his clothes and tucked the tails of his shirt into his pants.

 

‘Yes, Father Lecter’ he replied, and Hannibal couldn’t help a smile. The truth was that he had already made several cilices for the boy, one for his naughty dick, one for his soft balls and even one for his tongue. The oral cilice would make Will salivate as he learned to give head, and it would make their oral sessions memorable. Hannibal had many plans for the little masochist, and for his recently initiated penitent education. And little Will had so much to learn- and so much potential.

 

‘Go in peace now, my son’ Hannibal said.

 

Will nodded, and he was about to leave when he realized that Father Lecter was limping slightly as he moved around his office.

 

‘I’m so- sorry’ he breathed, and Hannibal tilted his head in curiosity.

 

‘Why would you be?’

 

‘I hurt you’ Will said pointing at Father Lecter’s thigh ‘And I’m- I’m sorry’.

 

‘Oh’ Hannibal raised an eyebrow ‘Don’t be. I’ll take the penitence gladly, my son. Can you walk?’

 

Will frowned and realized that he was also limping a little. His hole was very sore after the figging, and the plug renewed the friction every time he took a step. The feeling made Will feel immensely proud, though, and even closer to Father Lecter. They were both alike, each with their particular penitence, and Will nodded knowingly.

 

‘I’ll keep your secret, Father Lecter’.

 

‘And I’ll keep yours, my son’ Hannibal said with a fond smile ‘But you must go now, it’s almost lunch time. And don’t forget that you must report to me ten minutes before the rosary begins at the chapel. Your new penitence is heavily ribbed and studded, so it will mortify your little hole deep and good during the rosary, which you will pray kneeling meekly on the chapel floor. Be sure to be on time’.

 

‘Yes, Father Lecter’ Will breathed, and he left the office feeling his naughty dick twitching and pulsing in time with his heartbeat.

 

Rosary time couldn’t come soon enough.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue for my sweet bb trr_rr (ter0rr on tumblr) ^=^

EPILOGUE

 

'Will' Father Crawford said approaching the shy boy, who was reading an old book in the common room 'Why don't you play ping pong with the other boys? We have talked about the need to socialize before, and ping pong is a very enjoyable game. I brought this  tennis table here myself, and I was one of the junior Jesuit champions when I was your age. The game will help you make some friends, and it will also benefit your physical and mental skills considerably. What do you say, my son? Would you like to play a few games?'

 

Will looked at the priest and shook his head.

 

'I'd rather finish reading this book about Saint Lawrence first, Father'.

 

'Saint Lawrence?'

 

Jack frowned at the painting that illustrated the book, where the saint was being roasted alive on a grill on the site of the Basilica di San Lorenzo in Rome.

 

'Yes, Father' Will replied 'Saint Lawrence is the patron saint of cooks, and I find his story very edifying. He was so willing to embrace Christ in Heaven, that he did not mind the pain from the fire of his martyrdom, and indeed, he found the strength to tell his executioners “Turn me over. I am done on this side.”

 

'That is probably an urban legend, my son. Saint Lawrence was most certainly beheaded and not roasted'.

 

'I know, Father Lecter said the same thing. But still, I find his story very interesting. 

 

Jack was about to say something when Father Lecter entered the common room. The boys asked him to play a game of ping pong, and the priest agreed kindly.

 

'We'll talk about this… morbid interest later, Will'.

 

The boy said nothing, and watched as Father Lecter started to play ping pong. The cilice must hurt him pretty bad, and Will realized that he could well avoid that talk with Father Crawford by playing a little. After all, the rosary anal beads Father Lecter had slipped into his naughty hole that morning would hurt so deliciously more if he played a game of ping pong.

 


End file.
